Page 35 of Bossing My Holiday
“If I told you to kiss her, would you listen?”
He glares, and I toss my hands up.
“See. So why should telling you to shut up be any different? And they say I’m the immature one,” I grumble under my breath.
Tristan unlocks the door, and I’m relieved to find all of our things here and already unpacked for us by the butler. Waverly looks around the apartment, taking in the large living space, kitchen, and dining area. She’s eying the sofa like she’s still considering it, and I’m done. So fucking done.
I turn on her. “Do you regret it?”
“What?” she sputters, still out of sorts.
“Me kissing you. Do you regret it? Did you not enjoy it or not want to do it?”
“Um, I thought you said we weren’t going to talk about it.”
“I changed my mind. Answer me. Is it something you’d want to do again? Possibly do a lot more of. Because I liked it and I like you and I’m too old to play games with this. Yes, you’re a lot younger than us, and you’re going to be my assistant, and yes, that adds complications, but it doesn’t have to mean we can’t do this. Unless that’s not what you want. If you tell me no, it won’t impact anything. Your job, our relationship, it’s all good and intact. But to me, I’d like more.” I glance over her head. “It’s as Tristan said, when you spend enough time with someone, feelings become inevitable.”
I look back down at her, and she’s gnawing on her lip.
“You can tell me the truth. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
“I don’t regret it,” she says, her voice small. “I liked it. I like you. But?—”
“But you’re here with Tristan.”
“Yes. I’m here to be with him.”
“Good. That’s what I want too.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Tristan does,” I say, and his jaw clenches. “He just doesn’t know how to get out of his own way sometimes. It seems you have that problem too. But it’s basic math. Science. We’re orbiting electrons forming an ionic bond. The three of us.”
Tristan walks toward the large doors that lead out onto the balcony and stares out at the Parisian skyline, his hands on his hips. “Brax, what are you doing?”
“What you’ve wanted to do since you first laid eyes on her.” I run my hand into her hair and draw her to me so I can bend down and kiss her. Her hands grip my arms, and I can feel her struggle even as she kisses me back. I pull her into me and split her lips with my own, tasting her again. Kissing her the way I’ve wanted to for so long. Deep and thorough and with intent.
I open my eyes and glance over toward the window, and sure enough, Tristan is watching us. I smile against her lips and pull away to trickle down her neck. She’s already breathless and trembling, and I think a lot of that is uncertainty and fear.
But there’s none of that with Tristan. His expression is tormented with want and anger.
“Anything you’d like to see?” I ask him, and he grunts, blows out a heavy breath, and storms off toward his bedroom.
Waverly pulls back from me, nerves all over her face. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I signed a contract with him. We shouldn’t have done that.”
“Yes, we should have. He wants this, Waverly. He wants you. It’s like I told you, he’s just afraid to lose you.”
“Are you saying… it sounds like… like…”
“A threesome?”
She bites her lip, and I pick her up and walk her over to the sofa so I can sit us down with her straddling my lap. Her hair is so pretty as it frames her face, but I brush it back over her shoulders so I can really read her.
“Is the thought so awful to you? Having us share you?”
“I don’t understand how you can ask that. He doesn’t want me, Brax. He doesn’t even like me. We can hardly stand to be around each other for five minutes without fighting.”
“Tristan is a complicated guy, and I can’t convince you of something he’s unwilling to show. Just let the idea sit in your mind. Because I think it could be incredible for all of us.”
